


Coffee, Please!

by CastielsProfoundBees



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I promise it's actually not that sad, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not beta'd we die like men, Protective Spock (Star Trek), Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29009655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsProfoundBees/pseuds/CastielsProfoundBees
Summary: “Hello,” the Vulcan said, giving him the ta’al.Jim clumsily returned it, eyes squinting in suspicion, “Hello?”“My name is Spock, I apologize if I am intruding. However, I was advised to introduce myself to neighboring apartments. I am doing so now.”_A story about neighbors, coffee shops, and late night movies. The mutual pining comes free with the coffee.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 40
Kudos: 186





	1. Neighbors

Jim padded around his apartment kitchen, filling his old fashioned coffee pot and replicating some creamer. He yawned and stretched his arms over his shoulder. He needed to get dressed for an interview later, but frankly he wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. It wasn’t exactly like he was a morning person - unless it was for class of course, but his semester ended a week ago and with it his tidy schedule and scholarship funding. He needed a job.

To be even franker, it was just too fucking early. 

His coffee pot released a ping and he rubbed his face before crossing the kitchen for a mug. The mug read “#1 Captain,” though he was neither yet; a gift from his brother once he was accepted into the Command Program. Every time he saw it a ghost of a smile would grace his face, then of course he would remember the last time he saw his brother and the memory would fade. 

He was doing just that too when a knock sounded at the door. 

Who in their right mind was also up at 0700? He swears, if it was Bones coming to make sure he was up for fucks sake, he-

It was not Bones. 

In fact it was not anyone Jim knew, but rather a very uncomfortable Vulcan. If they could look uncomfortable, Jim thought. He looked about the same age as Jim with the signature severe hairstyle and pointed brows. Though he hasn’t met many Vulcans, Jim figures they usually don’t go about making house-calls. 

“Hello,” the Vulcan said, giving him the ta’al. 

Jim clumsily returned it, eyes squinting in suspicion, “Hello?”

“My name is Spock, I apologize if I am intruding. However, I was advised to introduce myself to neighboring apartments. I am doing so now.” 

Vaguely Jim remembered a moving truck just yesterday parked outside his apartment complex, but he hadn’t given it enough thought to follow through and investigate. This must be his new neighbor. 

“Oh, I’m Jim. It’s nice to meet you.” At the very least he didn’t offer to shake his hand. 

“You as well.”

Spock then moved his hands behind his back to grasp them. If Jim didn’t know any better, he’d call it fidgeting. He internally sighed, someone has got to help this guy, and it might as well be Jim. He had some time before his interview he could kill anyway. 

“Um, do you wanna come in? I just made coffee.” 

Spock raised an eyebrow, “that would be amenable, thank you.” 

Jim stepped back and gestured a hand inside, “mi casa es su casa.”

__

If someone told Spock he would be having terran coffee with his new neighbor, a rather aesthetically pleasing neighbor, he would not have been able to calculate the degree to which it was possible. In fact, it was simply too unlikely to think about at all. Despite that, Spock found himself walking through Jim’s doors and into his home. 

Jim’s apartment was laid out much the same as his own, but of course Jim’s was brighter - more embellished. The smell of coffee wafted through the living space from its adjoined kitchen and Spock found himself almost enjoying it. 

“You do not replicate your coffee?” 

He laughed, “No, some things just aren’t the same replicated. Can I get you anything?” 

“What you are having is adequate. If I may inquire, how is it different?”

Jim hummed, “now that is a good question,” he paused in thought. “Now that you mention it though, I’m not sure. There’s something about doing it myself, even this small thing, you know?” 

Spock did not know, but in some way he understood the human desire to do something less efficiently, if only for the fact that they are doing it. It reminded him very much of his mother’s garden on Vulcan, growing terran tomatoes despite the sand and humidity. She would toil away in the day nurturing small vines that several months later would produce small red fruit. Naturally, his father would replicate a tomato for the prospect of comparison, later deeming them indecipherable. His mother never agreed, but she always did so with humility and mirth. 

He told as much to Jim. 

Jim poured Spock his own mug and gestured for him to sit on a barstool while Jim leaned against the counter facing him. 

“I had a neighbor in Iowa who grew tomatoes. Your mom, she’s not wrong. They really do taste different. The skin is thicker, the fruit sweeter.”

“I will have to tell her so,” Spock decided. Though even as he said it he could not help but notice the increase in his own heart rate. Nor could he ignore Jim’s eyes, throughout their conversation they were kind and patient. His eyes were striking blue and as Jim faced him he found he wanted to keep looking. Spock had met many human and humanoid species while on Earth, but it felt as though Jim could be different. 

_ Felt _ . How terribly illogical, perhaps he did not meditate as much as needed. It was after all a strenuous day prior. Mentally he filed it away to address at a later time. 

“So what brings you to San Francisco, Spock?” Jim asks, taking a sip of his coffee. 

__

Well into his second cup now, Jim had gotten to know Spock, or at least kind of. A teaching assistant at the academy, Spock moved in so he could stay in San Francisco, as opposed to traveling back to Vulcan. He was a quiet guy, didn’t say much, but seemed open to listening to Jim. They spoke briefly about the academy, what classes they took, etc. Jim learned that Spock was well en route to advance further along the command track, but if Jim had an opinion, he seemed more fond of the sciences. Then Spock nodded to Jim’s mug.

“Are you a Captain?” A mild tone of bewilderment in Spock’s voice, or perhaps he was projecting. 

A smile broke out and Jim laughed heartily. “No, no. My brother got me this mug. I’m also on the command track, I’ll graduate in a couple of years.”

“Ah, well perhaps our paths will cross later in the field.” 

Jim found himself giving Spock a warm smile, “Yeah, maybe.” 

Then his phone rang. 

He needed to be at an interview in twenty minutes. 

He loosely let go of his mug causing the beige beverage to spill slightly onto the table. 

“Oh, fuck. Shit  _ shit _ . I have to go, I have an interview!”


	2. Coffee Shop

“Bones!” Jim opened his arms with bravado as he entered Cosmic Coffee. 

A stout man behind the counter glared, “don’t  _ Bones _ me. You’re late, c’mon.” 

Jim pouted, but followed him behind the counter anyway. Cosmic Coffee was the only coffee shop on campus, and as such, it was everyone’s favorite. He met Bones when he first started at the academy, and ever since he’s begrudgingly been Jim’s friend. In fact, he’s the reason Jim has a job to begin with. Promoted to manager after studiously working there last semester, he gave Jim a proper reference and recommended him for a position. 

Bones picked up the weekly schedule and scanned it, “Nyota is training you up front today on the register, capice?”

Jim saluted his response, “capice, Doc.” 

Scowling, Bones led him back up front. It was only then that Jim spotted a lithe woman sitting on a stool in the supply closet. She appeared to be scribbling flash cards, but honestly Jim wasn’t sure. Regardless, Jim was the last person on her mind, with her job coming in at least second.

“I didn’t know you were on break, Uhura.” Bones mimed looking at a wristwatch, “oh wait, you’re not.” 

Uhura, Jim assumed, stopped what she was doing to glower at Bones. She gestured vaguely to the front of the store, “there’s no customers.” 

In response Bones pinched his nose, “well go clean some shit. Please - or train Jim. Something.”

It seemed that Uhura just realized there was someone other than Bones and her notecards. Though her demeanor didn’t seem any brighter, she rubber-banded her cards and set them next to a book bag. She then stood and stepped away from the storage closet adjacent to the register, kicking her book bag under a storage unit as she did so. Leveling an expectant look at Jim, she crossed her arms. 

Jim looked around in confusion, “I’m sorry?” 

“Can you count?” She asked. 

“Yes?” 

She uncrossed her arms then and smiled, “great. I’ll make the coffee, you take the money and give them change.” Turning then to Bones she added, “Trained?” 

He rolled his eyes, “sure. Have fun, I’m going to go do the paperwork the owner should be, but is not, doing himself.”

__

It turned out that managing a register was not as complicated as it seemed, but Jim supposed he  _ was _ a fast learner. Granted, he also had Nyota (“You don’t get to call me Uhura.”) there to push him in the right direction. Or, more often than not, shove him in the direction. Thankfully most people these days paid with digital currency or campus credits, making Jim’s life infinitely easier. He would put in the order, Uhura would make it, Jim would deliver it, and then repeat. Easy - peasy. 

That is until a particularly neighborly Vulcan came in one breezy afternoon. 

__

The wind chill outside was perhaps colder than Spock was expecting it to be. 

Despite living on campus for over a year now, he found no necessity to “sight see” as many of his fellow students did. It would, however, be illogical not to have a firm grasp of one's surroundings, or so he told himself. It of course helped that for once the sky was clear and the trees billowy, and unfortunately also cold. 

It was just as he was about to return to his apartment that he noticed the blinking sign of Cosmic Coffee. It was not in his nature to be inclined to frivolous drinks, especially those in which contain caffeine, something Vulcan’s did not require. However, he recalled the feeling of his hands wrapped around a warm mug and light conversation from weeks prior. In truth, he had not seen much of his neighbor since their morning conversation. Many times Spock was researching at the academy and not available in the apartment complex at all, and others Spock would discover that Jim had left for work. 

Although the two had not seen one another in some weeks, Jim would always wave at Spock in the hall if he was able, hold the elevator for him, and on the occasion return to his apartment to find a sticky note written by Jim with wishes of well regard. It would of course be illogical to return messages that are not necessary, but he believed that Jim would continue leaving them anyway. 

_ Believed. _ It was something he was not used to, believing was not something you did with fact. Belief was reserved for hope, and hope is an emotion which he could not feel. 

He was going to get  _ tea _ , he told himself. 

__

It wasn’t quite a whole minute when Jim called out to Spock; in fact, it was closer to 15.7 seconds. 

“Spock!” He waved and reached over the counter.

There was only one other person who Spock knew possessed that much energy with whom he was acquainted. Though he had thought perhaps Jim enjoyed coffee, and thought perhaps it was likely he worked part-time over the break, and thought  _ perhaps  _ he was working at a coffee shop due to his early leave for work, he had not expected to see him here. 

The coffee shop was on the smaller side, but Spock found that many of the tables were taken by other cadets. Many were with friends, a mug between their hands and occasionally a pastry by their side. For lack of better word, it was  _ cozy _ . It was of course helpful that his neighbor was beaming at him just as he did in the hallway. 

“Jim, it is a surprise to see you.” 

He smiled widely, “what can I get you, man?” 

Spock peered behind Jim at the menu, but found himself staring blankly at the words. Instead he felt Jim’s eyes on him and in turn he felt heat rise to his neck and the tip of his ears. He had never experienced this before, how improbable that singular individual he was only just acquainted with could elicit such a reaction. 

“Tea.”

“You came to a coffee shop for tea?” He was still smiling and the mirth in his voice was bright. 

“I admit I do not know much about coffee, nor do I require it.” 

Jim paused, “tell you what. Let me make you something and then you can tell me if you like it?”

“I suppose the process of elimination is not entirely illogical. How many credits do you require?”

He waved his hand as if to wave Spock’s words away. “We’re neighbors. It’s on me.”

“That is generous, Jim. I hope to return the favor at a later point.” At Jim’s grin he supposed that was the correct answer. If just these small comments created such joy in the man before him, then he would endeavor to do so frequently. 

__

A couple weeks later Jim had begun narrowing his list of prospective coffees for Spock. He was apparently a difficult customer to please, but Jim was happy to do anything that involved seeing Spock flustered or at a loss of words. He learned quickly that Spock was not fond of mint (“Jim this is… not pleasant.”) or anything that was too sweet. Jim was getting closer though, he felt it. And as he did so he was also getting closer to Spock. Often Jim would align Spock’s visits with his breaks and they would discuss anything from astrophysics to terran history. He enjoyed his company, the little tick his lips would do when he was trying not to smile, the way his brow would quirk when Jim said something particularly confounding. He just  _ wanted  _ to be with him, that was all. 

It was a tricky rope to walk and Jim knew it. He always fell hard and fast, too much too soon. Even if he thought Spock returned his feelings he couldn’t risk it, not this time. He valued their conversations too much, even if they only occurred while he was at work. It didn’t take long for Bones to notice something was up, which meant of course Nyota as well. 

“So that was  _ the  _ Spock?” Nyota asked one night while closing. She was running her wash rag over the espresso machine and organizing their syrups while also interrogating Jim. 

“Mhm.” Jim answered while pulling his register. 

“That’s it? ‘Mhm’? Jim you talk about him every shift we work together. You special ordered a  _ syrup _ for him.” 

He scoffed in response, “that was one time, and Bones said we needed new syrups anyway.” 

“It was pistachio flavored, Jim. We don’t make pistachio  _ anything _ here.” 

Finally Jim turned around to face her. Setting his register down on the counter, he said “I like him, okay? He’s my neighbor and also my friend and I don’t want to fuck it up.” 

Nyota dropped her rag back into the disinfectant and placed her hands squarely on her hips. “Jim, honey, you’re not gonna fuck it up. He lets you make him disastrous coffee every day. You don’t even  _ make  _ the coffee here, I do.”

He smiled deprecatingly, “I just can’t chance it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2!
> 
> This should at most be a 10k story, so I'm trying to add the passage of time into the story as well so it doesn't seem rushed, but if it feels weird let me know! It's a learning process lol. 
> 
> Who bets Spock just doesn't like coffee? I mean-
> 
> Hope you guys are staying safe!


	3. Tarsus IV

Uhura sat at the register scribbling notes onto a notepad to her left, looking up every so often to be considered attentive. Bones called her early that morning to phone in a favor and cover Jim’s shift. He had “gifted” her one too many hypos and she had no choice but to pay up. Jim was apparently sick with the flu, but the answer felt hollow coming from Bones. If  _ he _ couldn’t fix whatever was wrong with him, Jim was as good as dead. 

Then the door chimed. Uhura had been expecting this. 

“Hey, Spock. What can I get you?” 

Spock paused. Though he kept his face carefully concealed Uhura was almost certain he was surprised. Before answering he scanned the restaurant, but found no sunny smile or warm laughter. 

“May I inquire about Jim's whereabouts?” 

She shrugged, “I mean normally, like no, but I know you guys are friends.” She discarded her notepad in favor of leaning on the counter. “He apparently called in sick, but between you and me I think he’s holed up in his apartment.” 

Spock nodded. “This is the first time he has missed, correct?”

Uhura hummed. 

He nodded again, and then after a moment seemed to come to a conclusion. 

“May I order his usual? To go?” 

She grinned, already scribbling on a paper cup to her right. “For sure.”

__

A knock resounded on Jim’s door. 

He decided late that night, or rather early that morning, that he would be doing shit all today. It wasn’t worth it; he wouldn’t be very useful in the shop today anyway. When he texted Bones several insufferable hours ago he got an immediate text back  _ (Just take care of yourself, kid.) _ . Bones never asked any questions, never pushed when Jim pulled, and it was only because of very little sleep one week during finals that he knew anything at all. He owed the guy a drink - and probably a million other things at this point. 

The knock sounded again. 

Jim resolutely rolled over on his bed and pulled the covers up over his face. He wasn’t getting it. Fuck the mail man, he can leave it outside. 

A pause then, perhaps they walked away. 

“Jim?” He could hear through the door. 

_ Oh. Spock _ .

He had come to see him. He must have noticed he wasn’t at work. The thought only made Jim’s face heat with humility, to be shown so much kindness on a day like this, it shouldn’t be his. 

“Jim, I apologize if I am int-” Spock began again. 

Jim didn’t hear the rest as he sat up and peeled the bedding away. He couldn’t do much, but he could do this, and he wasn’t going to let Spock sit outside his apartment and believe he was ignoring him. He walked through the living space and opened the door.   
Spock stood a couple steps shy of the entryway. Clad in his usual sweater _(I am Vulcan, Jim. We do not get hot.)_ holding what appeared to be a to-go cup of coffee. Though certainly not caught unawares, Jim watched as the tips of Spock’s ears turned an ivy green. This was perhaps the first time he had seen him nervous. 

Schooling his features, Spock held out the coffee. “Uhura informed you were sick. I endeavored to evaluate your wellbeing myself. I was… worried.”

“Thank you, I-” Jim faltered as he grabbed the cup. “Do you wanna come in?” He held the door open further. 

“Always, Jim.”

Spock followed Jim into his apartment and noted the shuddered blinds and unkempt living space. The lights were dim and the room was quiet. Despite looking relatively the same as it used to, the room lacked the same warmth that it had on his first visit. For the first time Spock realized that perhaps it was the man itself, and not the room, that brought such color. Now as he looked at the same man he saw no mirth or vibrant emotions; in fact, Jim looked quite tired. Older in a way Spock had not yet seen, not in the past several months he had come to know him. 

Jim slumped into the couch and Spock sat next to him. They sat in silence for quite a bit, as Jim sipped his coffee and Spock folded his hands and waited. He trusted Jim to say his piece when he was ready. If it came that he would never speak, Spock would be gratified in being near his presence anyway. Like a moth to flame, Spock wanted to be as near and as close as he was able.

Eventually Jim finished his coffee and gracelessly placed the empty cup on the ground. He leaned forward and rubbed at his face, let his fingers dig into his eyes and sweep back into his hair. He sighed. 

“Have you heard of Tarsus IV?” Jim whispered.

“Of course.”

He expected this and nodded, everyone knew about Tarsus. “When I was thirteen, ten years ago today, my death and many others were  _ so ordered _ ,” he quoted “ _ by General Kodos, Governor of Tarsus IV _ .”

He turned to gauge Spock’s reaction, but found his face open, listening. 

“Of course,” Jim laughed self-deprecatingly, “I didn’t die.”

“I am grateful,” Spock murmured to him, to the stillness of the room around them. 

“I saw it though Spock, all of those people - those  _ parents _ .” He was rambling now, lost in the memory and the childhood that was stolen. “You could tell they  _ knew _ , and they just  _ shielded us _ . I was the oldest and I did the best I could, but I couldn’t sa _ ve all of them and I- _ ”

“Are not responsible,” Spock finished fiercely. “You are not responsible for the lives that were taken. For the time that I have known you, you have been nothing but generous and kind. You are a  _ good _ man.” 

Jim’s face crumpled, “ _ Spock _ .” 

Spock felt, for once, at a loss for words. "May I hug you?” He asked instead.

Jim didn’t need to answer as he met Spock halfway and let his hands fist in the back of Spock’s sweater. He rested his head in the crook of Spock’s shoulder and took in the scent of incense and San Francisco weather. Felt comforted by the hands that returned in kind to circle around his back and the small circles that Spock rubbed into his lower back.

“I grieve with thee.”

__

A minute longer than was surely considered proper, Jim pulled away. He chuckled momentarily as he wiped away stray tears. Though his face was blotchy from crying and his eyes lined with shadows, Spock felt once again the warmth he had begun to associate with Jim. Though Spock knew he would never be able to fix the trauma Jim had endured, he felt comforted by the fact that he could, at the very least, stay by his side through it. 

Jim stood, “let me get you a cup of coffee. For old times’ sake.”

It was as Jim walked to the neighboring kitchen that Spock had a realization. He had grown close to Jim over the several months he had known him. Sought out Cosmic Coffee on a daily basis for a beverage he did not require, sat with Jim during his lunch breaks, lingered in hallways to have fleeting conversation. He thought then on the first day they met, the kindness Jim had shown him, the way he laughed when Spock said something seemingly humorous, the way his eyes appeared brighter when he was excited. Now he had seen him distraught, in grief and distress, and found that he could not bear the thought of Jim handling it alone. 

Spock did not love him, not yet. However, he realized he  _ could _ and even more likely, he  _ would _ . It was not a logical conclusion and not something that made sense. No logic dictated that you could know love was possible if one simply let it, but Spock supposed that was true of many great and wonderful things. He saw the best in Jim, saw who he could be and in turn wanted to better himself for it. Jim’s existence made him want to be better if only so he would be able to hold him one more time. He was going to love him and it was not something he or anyone could do about it. 

“Here you go,” Jim said as a warm mug was placed between Spock’s hands. 

He took a sip and it was better than anything Jim had made him before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello, I'm back. 
> 
> We've got more to go folks, but here is important middle stuff. 
> 
> Also, if anyone's curious these have been my chapter notes so far lmao:
> 
> Spock introduces himself and they have coffee - interview - Spock goes to a coffee shop and becomes a regular drinking awful coffee - Jim misses work one day on Tarsus anniversary, so Spock brings him coffee and they talk. yes jim's drink is super sweet, no I won't explain why. It’s sweet and nice, but cements Spock’s feelings.


	4. Movie Pt. 1

“Alright, now presenting,” Jim spins dramatically, “an iced pistachio caramel, vanilla, black tea infused latte.” He places the drink on what has become their usual table. 

Spock raises an eyebrow, “this is the 36th drink you have attempted, correct?”

Jim nods excitedly as he slides into the adjacent chair, “and it’s the one too.”

With what Jim can only assume is sheer excitement, and definitely not muted apprehension, Spock takes a sip. The effect is immediate and Jim laughs as Spock purses his lips and frowns. It takes a lot to get a visible reaction out of him, so Jim takes pleasure in knowing that Spock has lightly dropped his guard around him. 

“Alright, don’t say anything, rate it from one to ten.” 

Spock sets the drink down. “It is… not the worst you have made.”

“I thought Vulcan couldn't lie, Spock- and that’s not what I asked.” He says conspicuously while leaning forward on the table.

Spock takes a moment before declaring it “a 3.47.”

Jim points at the drink with glee. “That’s a win. I’m considering this a complete win.” 

“If you see it so.” 

__

They spend the rest of Jim’s break discussing their upcoming semester. Fall has quickly approached and the time to apply for courses has nearly started. Spock confides in Jim that he has  _ (“Fucking finally, man!” Jim says while reaching over to clap Spock on the shoulder.)  _ switched to the science track. At this Jim watches as Spock’s lip tick upward in mild amusement. He’s beautiful, Jim thinks. It’s not the first time the thought crossed his mind, but still he is always taken aback. 

“What about your plans, Jim?”

Jim scratches the top of his head while he thinks. “I’m not sure. I think if I work really hard I could graduate early, with you and Bones, but it would be a lot.” 

“If it is any consolation, I know your academic skills far exceed your talent as a barista.” 

Jim gawfs, a hand on his heart, “you wound me,” he mocks and then breaks into laughter.

Spock cannot help but watch as Jim’s eyes close with mirth and color rises to his cheeks. He lets his stare linger at Jim’s mouth where he smiles widely. Even if Jim were not to graduate early, Spock knew that he would wait until he did. They were going to see the stars together.

When Jim contains his laughter he checks his watch and moves to clear their table.

“My break is over,” he laments. 

“I have noticed,” Spock answers as he gathers his belongings to leave. As he stands though, bag in hand, disastrous coffee in the other, Jim is still waiting for him. He raises an eyebrow in question. 

“Hey, uh, if you’re free tonight you should come over. We can order take out and watch a movie. I close, but I wouldn’t be home very late, but if you have other plans, then I-”

Spock levels a look at him, one that always silences him. “I will be there.” 

Jim feels heat rise up his neck and onto his face. He smiles yet again, “good, good. I’ll see you.” He rubs the back of his neck and then turns to finish his shift. 

__

It’s almost eight in the evening when Spock hears a knock in his apartment. He is uncharacteristically nervous, which he admits to himself and himself alone. It was not because every time Jim saw him his heart rate increased to 2.7 times his resting rate, it was not because Jim had the bluest eyes and the kindest smile, and it was not because he believed that Jim saw the best in him - that would be illogical. Despite this, he could not deny the way his feelings had changed since the weeks ago of the Tarsus IV anniversary. He could not forget the way Jim’s eyes had sorrowed and the way the timbre of his voice had lost its warmth. The way Jim had looked at him as though Spock was giving him something precious. 

He closes his book, places it neatly back on the shelf, certainly does not take his time so as not to look like he was waiting, and opens his door. 

Jim is standing in the hallway looking as bright as always, if a little bashful. He’s changed out of his work shirt and apron to light washed jeans and a faded flannel covered t-shirt. Spock takes the barest of moments to take in his appearance, his work mussed hair and his brilliant eyes, before returning himself to the present. 

“Hello, Jim.”

“Hey! Are you still free to watch a movie? I’m sorry, it’s later than I expected, we were down an employee and we were covering his closing shift. If it’s too late and you have better things to-”

Spock holds up a hand, “my evening is still vacant. No need to apologize where no offense was intended.” 

Jim visibly settles, “you can come over now? I have popcorn?”

“That is amenable.”

__

It was impossible that Spock had not seen any classic Pixar film, Jim thought as they sat side by side on his couch. They were old, yes, but they aged brilliantly. The fact he had not seen one was a travesty and after some debate they settled on  _ Wall-E _ \- and if Jim saw himself in Wall-E as he hopelessly pined after the sleek and effortless Eva, then Spock was none the wiser. 

It would be amiss on Jim’s part not to take notice of how close they sat. Jim leaned against the back of the couch with his legs pulled underneath him criss-cross, while Spock sat perfectly poised just to Jim’s right. However, Jim noticed that Spock had not pulled away when he readjusted and, incidentally, left them pressed shoulder to shoulder. In fact, Spock seemed to close the distance himself, going as far as to also lean back however slightly, while also maintaining his good posture. 

Every few minutes Jim found himself averting his eyes from the screen to watch Spock’s profile. Though he had argued at the front that two robots, obviously not fitted with artificial intelligence, falling in love was illogical, Jim felt as though Spock was softening to the story. At the very least Jim knew that Spock could not resist a story about human discovery and science. 

“It does not insult you to see your species reduced to such…” Spock began at one point while watching the ship’s people go about their day.

“To being lazy?” Jim finished for him and laughed, “no, not really. We  _ can _ be, but you have to wait till the ending.” 

If Vulcans could pout, Jim was pretty sure Spock did it every time he refused to tell him what happened. It made sense with his personality, to want to know anything and everything, and in some ways Jim took joy in knowing something Spock did not - and being able to hold it over him.

Jim watched closely as the lights splayed over Spock’s features, noting the way the blues highlighted his strict hair and made his eyes seem more warm than they were cool. He was done for, it was too late. He couldn’t compete with his own heart even though he had tried many times before. Resisting falling in love with Spock was like trying to will the sun not to rise.

“Jim?” Spock murmured, noting his eyes had strayed from the screen for quite some time. 

Caught unawares Jim felt heat rise to his neck and hoped desperately that the dark covered it. “Nothing - it’s nothing. Just tired,” he finally recovered.

Spock raised an eyebrow, but otherwise did not comment. 

As if to spite him, Jim  _ was _ tired. It was another long day at work that left him feeling like he needed a coffee - he was aware of the irony. The idea of cancelling on Spock didn’t sit well with him though, nor did he want to, so he mustered on. As the lights on screen kept swirling and his eyes kept shifting back to Spock, he found them feeling heavy and before he could do anything about it, he was out. 

__

His Vulcan schooling had not taught him what to do when the boy you liked fell asleep on your shoulder. In some ways he found it illogical to wake Jim up, for he knew he was tired, but a smaller more selfish part of him also knew that he took comfort in having Jim so close. Asleep like this Spock could look uninterrupted at his features which were colored by the cool tones of the film giving Jim an almost ethereal spotlight. He wanted to sigh but knew he would not, and resigned himself to sitting with Jim as long as he was able. 

It was while Spock watched distantly as Wall-E and Eva danced and twirled in space that he realized he wanted to kiss him.  _ Had _ wanted to kiss him, wanted to do so much more, but mostly wanted to smooth the furrow from his brow, brush his hand through Jim’s hay colored hair and be with him. More than that he realized now, he wanted Jim to also be there for him, as he had been when they first met, and as he knew he would be if Spock ever needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to turn this into two parts! It was originally just going to be Jim falling asleep and Spock pining, but I thought perhaps the next morning would also be interesting ? So that's the plan lol. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy, stay safe!


	5. Movie Pt. 2

Jim realizes distantly that he is very warm. I mean,  _ very  _ warm. He didn’t remember having a heated weighted blanket, but it was possible. You know - in the way anything is possible. So of course you can’t blame him when he pushes his face into the warmth, draws the ‘blanket’ in close and falls back asleep with a content hum. 

_

Jim realizes with  _ sudden  _ clarity that he needs to disappear. 

Anything is preferable to waking up with two very strong arms wrapped around him, breath tickling the nape of his neck, and a very much asleep Spock. Well, granted, it wasn’t better and this was probably the best thing that had happened to Jim in quite some time, but it doesn’t mean it was any less confounding. He knew he fell asleep, he could remember dozing, but he couldn’t remember lying down or Spock lying with him. 

Jim twists his body away slightly, trying to untangle himself gently. This only results in a discontented groan from Spock and being pulled in even closer, but hey - he wouldn’t have pegged Spock for a cuddler. 

So Jim does the best next thing. 

He burrows his head back into Spock’s chest and falls back asleep.

Hear him out. If he couldn’t get away from Spock’s grasp, then he would have to let Spock let go on his own. If he could feign sleep and  _ somehow _ convince Spock that he had no clue this happened, then he was in the clear. Easy peasy. 

Except nothing is easy when it comes to Jim. 

__

Spock wakes first to the scent of earth and soap. It is familiar in the way one always remembers the scent of their childhood fabric softener, faint and tinged with rose coloured glasses. His eyes opened lackadaisily like a cat’s and before them he saw hay colored hair. Spock was not disillusioned and he did not need to process what he was seeing. 

His arms circled Jim’s waist on an unfamiliar sofa and if he turned he knew he would see the pinging of an inactive holo screen. A thumb brushed near Jim’s chest and he felt the slow rise and fall of his breath. He should leave, but he allowed himself to relish in the moment for a second longer. Illogical though it may.

It was perhaps a moment too long. 

Jim’s breath stuttered and then he was gasping upright, out of Spock’s arms and their warmth. Spock did not have the chance to feign sleep, and he would not even if he could. Instead he held himself upright on the armrest of the couch and watched patiently as the rise and fall of Jim’s shoulders slowed. When he turned, there was mildly subdued fear in his blue eyes and Spock noticed the beginnings of sweat beading on his temples. Jim clutched his chest as he sat clumsily by Spock’s socked feet on the couch. 

For a moment it seemed as if Jim would not speak at all, but eventually he swallowed and rasped “I’m sorry.” Spock resisted smoothing the furrow that had appeared between Jim’s brows.

“There is nothing to apologize for.” A beat, and then - “would you like to talk about it?” 

Jim moved his hand from his chest to rest on Spock’s shin next to him. He smiled ruefully, “you’re giving me deja vu.” 

Spock did not answer, he knew that waiting him out was the best action. Eventually Jim would collect his thoughts to speak. Presently Spock was grateful that they were not discussing the hand on his shin or their sleep rumpled shirts. 

“I was on Tarsus again,” Jim finally confessed. “You were there too, this time.” Spock stilled.  Jim turned to fully face him, and Spock lamented the loss of his hand on his calf. Jim seemed to mull his words over in his mind, sift them like coffee beans through a filter.

“You were with me, and I couldn’t get to you fast enough, and there was gunfire and i _ t was happening againandI- _ ,” Spock didn’t let him finish. 

__

His lips are warm and soft, Jim thought. 

He pulled away a moment later, “ _ Ashyam, _ I am not going anywhere.” 

“Ashyam,” Jim repeated, the words thick and foreign on his tongue. 

Spock nodded, “it means  _ beloved _ . I apologize that I did not act sooner,” but it was his turn to be cut off as Jim pushed forward and he landed with his back to the seat of the couch. 

Jim didn’t want him anywhere else. Jim wanted Spock where he could see him, anytime, all of the time, anything that Spock would give him. The idea of simply saying nothing as he had prior baffled him, he could not sooner leave Spock’s arms than he could stay on Earth. 

Jim feared that the tumbleweed of thoughts would be seen as illogical, but with his mouth on the junction of where neck meets shoulder, the sounds he made suggested other. Jim didn’t think, he just thought and thought about how much he loved Spock. He visualized himself sending these feelings down a line like a tin can telephone and into Spock, hoping that somehow he understood. 

“I do,” Spock breathed quietly. 

A touch telepath, Jim remembered. 

__

It was a half hour, Spock did not know the exact minute, before they fully pulled apart. The sun had officially risen and light streamed into the living space. It hit Jim’s profile the way the waves meet sand and Spock allowed the barest of smiles. Jim must have seen because heat bloomed on his face and down his neck. 

“Can I get you a coffee?” 

Spock said yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope everyone is staying safe and warm!
> 
> Sorry it's been a sec, I watched the Supernatural finale and had to pause to write something for that lol.
> 
> This fic is finished; though I'll probably add an epilogue within the next week! 
> 
> Thank you for tuning it, I appreciate the kind words and kudos.


	6. Epilogue

It was the spring semester before they graduated. February was longer and colder than either Jim or Spock could appreciate, and a thick layer of snow rested on the ground. Jim decided to take on extra classes to be able to join his friends on their graduation day - and here he was. 

Almost, anyway. 

They didn’t graduate for another three months, but he was on track to do so and already Bones and Spock were proud of him. Spock took it upon himself to tutor Jim whenever he had the opportunity - it was  _ mostly _ studying, he told - while Bones let Jim off the hook if he was a few minutes late to his shift every now and then. 

Jim realized with a fresh clarity that he was happy. 

Things weren’t perfect and Jim doubted they ever would be. He still had nightmares, and usually Spock was in them, but now Spock was always  _ with _ him too. Ready to pull him out whenever he needed, Jim only hoped that he was doing the same for Spock. 

A voice shook him out of his thoughts, “ _ Ashyam _ ?”

He blinked his eyes and focused them on the voice who stood to his left. 

“I’m not sure this is the wisest idea, Jim.” Spock said, while looking at the steep hill below them. Jim laughed. “We’re not going into space before you go sledding. Especially not with snow like  _ this _ .” 

Bones and Uhura watched from a few feet away, no doubt gossiping. Uhura held a coffee in a mittened hand while Bones simply crossed his hands under his arms. She was promoted to manager a few weeks back, and as managers do, she and Bones argued like siblings. 

Jim laid the sled on the ground, if it could be called a sled. San Francisco wasn’t known for their snow, but it seemed the whole country was experiencing a snow phenomenon - even  _ if _ it was only an inch or two. With this new experience, many of the students had become “innovative,” to quote Spock. 

Jim had chosen a large lid to a storage tub. Spock raised his brow when he saw it initially. 

“Alright, get on,” Jim gestured to the sled. 

Spock frowned minutely, and Jim relished in the way the tip of his ears and nose turned the color of sage and pine trees. He was always so lovely. 

Instead of debating him, Spock sat and Jim followed suit in front of him. 

Jim turned around, “Bones!” he yelled. “Come push us!”

The doctor raised his arms exasperated, “and here I thought we were distinguished adult graduates.” He came to aid them anyway. 

Spock brought his arms to circle Jim’s middle and rest his chin on Jim’s shoulder. 

Then they were off. 

_

When they inevitably tumbled off of the sled and into the powdery snow Spock watched as Jim smiled widely, his hair damp and stuck to his forehead from melted snow and his cheeks a rosy red. Spock trusted he would never get used to it. 

Between Jim’s fits of laughter Spock stood to offer him a hand up.

“I believe the phrase is, ‘you owe me’,” he deadpanned as Jim grasped his gloved hand. 

This only made Jim’s grin brighter, “and  _ I _ believe that would be ‘ _ amenable _ .’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the epilogue, and now I'm officially done. 
> 
> I originally wanted to turn this into its own one-shot, because kids really are sledding on storage lids and all sorts of things, but I didn't think it would be long enough. So take this instead.


End file.
